


Meeting the Governor

by womanroaring



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanroaring/pseuds/womanroaring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don’t know if The Great Stiefvater is planning to include the “meet the governor” event in The Raven King that was mentioned in BLLB, but if she does, I’d like it to go something like this. I don’t think it will, but here is my optimistic, fantasy version for posterity :)</p><p>I added a second chapter because I couldn't stop thinking about what might happen once they got back to Henrietta. And I wanted more Pynch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a strange morning, with a feel of lightning in the air. It couldn't decide whether it actually wanted to rain, though, let alone storm. It couldn’t even decide if it wanted to be cloudy.

It matched Gansey's mood perfectly as he settled his overnight bag and his matching suit one into the Suburban.  
  
He'd have to endure old rich people at this stupid lunch with the Governor.  
  
Blue would be there.  
  
It was time they could be spending on their search for Glendower.  
  
It would be good for Adam.  
  
Blue might make a scene.  
  
Blue might wear something with lots of holes in it.  
  
Blue might wear a dress made from old floral curtains and combat boots.  
  
Blue might notice how slick he looked in the suit he was planning to wear.  
  
Blue might hate his suit.  
  
He arrived at St Agnes' a raw nerve to see Adam already on the curb looking just like he felt.

“Parrish!” Gansey said, fist-bumping Adam as he got into the car and thinking about the time that the _New York Times_ had described the action as a “closed-fisted high-five” because they had had no idea what it was.

Adam really did look ill. He did get so nervous. Gansey tried to be reassuring but his mind was dwelling on the fact that his parents were going to meet Blue today, and Blue was going to meet his parents.

Blue was going to see their house.

His stomach felt like it was in the belly of a sea monster whenever he imagined Blue seeing it.

It was not home to him any more. It hadn’t felt like home for years. It wasn’t who he was. And he wanted her to understand that before she became enraged by its more excessive displays of wealth. He could hear her now -- _“there are people starving in the world and your father needs how many cars?”_ \-- but he hadn’t been able to think of an angle, a way to prepare her while also disassociating himself from it.

He deliberately hadn’t put on his Top Siders this morning. Or an aquamarine polo shirt. Or anything else that might annoy her.

He strongly suspected that he was going to use his “fake voice” today.

He was going to have to watch what he said like a hawk.  

Maybe Blue and Adam would spend the whole time talking about how everyone else in the room had no idea what struggling financially was like, what farms and trailer parks and public schools were like.

What being magical was like.

He had no idea why he was jealous of Adam all of a sudden, apart from the fact that Adam had at one point been allowed to hold Blue’s hand in public and give her flowers and refer to her as his girlfriend.

Apart from the fact that Ronan couldn’t keep his eyes off Adam but only stared at Gansey occasionally.

He parked the car a little too joltily in front of 300 Fox Way.

“You coming?” Gansey asked Adam, hoping he’d say no, but still being surprised that he did.

“I’m saving my energy for dealing with the idle rich,” Adam said. “I don’t think I have enough for a house full of magical women as well.”

“You should try to sleep on the drive,” Gansey said, hoping ulterior motives weren’t audible in his voice.

“I think I will,” Adam said, and with that, he crawled into the back seat.

It was Orla who answered the door, barefoot and sporting a predatory expression.

“Blue! It’s your _ride_ ,” she said, and something sounded a bit too knowing in her tone. Gansey wondered if it was that tone that Blue objected to when she overheard Orla on the psychic phone line.

It did sound like a voice that would earn a dollar a minute.

Gansey said nothing, as his tongue was abruptly glued to the roof of his mouth. Blue had just appeared, looking like she was ready to get the hell out of Dodge. But that wasn’t why he was staring. It was because she had abandoned her clips and spikey ponytail and her bob was a bob for once, sleek and shiny, framing her pretty face like quotation marks.

Her beautiful face.

That would be the one.

She had a bright purple suit bag in her hands that matched her nails. Her outfit for the lunch must have been in it, since she was currently wearing an eminently unsuitable white crocheted dress over something green and tie-dyed.

It occurred to him that he had no idea how one would go about removing such an outfit from her person. Had it been crocheted directly on to her? Did you just unravel it?

_Stop looking at her._

Blue gave him one defiant glance and then stomped out the door without a word of goodbye to anyone. Especially not to Orla.

“Now, don't mess up her hair, pretty," Orla said to him, shoving Blue's overnight bag into his arms. He wrenched his eyes off Blue’s retreating back to focus on her cousin, since she was still talking. "I spent ages getting her fancy for you,” Orla was saying. “Now go take her off on your white horse. Oh wait -- just one more thing."

She grabbed Gansey’s arm and whispered it in his ear.

Gansey just stared at her, his head suddenly spinning. She laughed and pushed him out the door.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She trilled at their backs, before slamming the door shut.

Blue’s first words to him when they got into the car were, “The Camaro broken again?”

Gansey made a self-deprecating expression, one of the ones Blue liked. She moved her eyes determinedly at his shoulder while he said something about how, alas, they could neither take the risk that it might break down, nor arrive reeking of gas.

He had a nice shoulder.

Adam produced a burnt CD as they were about to drive off.

“From Ronan,” he said. “He assured me no squash were murdered in its creation.”

Every single song on the disk might as well have been the damned Murder Squash song, however, so it was quickly turned off. Gansey replaced it with something over-produced and Adam fell asleep.

The drive passed pleasantly enough. Gansey pointed out landmarks and told Blue where they were in relation to the ley line. Blue also kept it light and impersonal, telling him funny stories about her last few days: the Aglionby boys that had come in to Nino’s; the little old ladies whose roses she had pruned; an outraged client who had stormed out on Calla and another who kept ringing for Orla and hanging up if anybody else answered the phone.

Gansey did not tell her what Orla had said to him. Partly because there was no way of knowing quite how asleep Adam was, and partly because he wanted to be able to see every bit of her when he did tell her.

Just as they got quite close to the ley line again, about an hour from their destination, they saw a white car, broken down by the side of the road.

Henry Cheng.

“Oh, great. It’s that guy,” Blue said, but not angrily. This time, she couldn’t be mistaken as something to use at night. This time, she was a friend invited to something, equal with Adam.

 “I _know_ him,” Gansey replied apologetically as he pulled over, but Blue was already winding down her window.

“Gansey boy!” Henry said, then, seeing Blue, “Oh hey, it’s you!”

“Have another twenty points. Still can’t keep your car running, then?”

“Completely dead. And I don’t have time to wait for a tow truck, my dad expects me at this fancy doily lunch in D.C.”

“With the governor?” Gansey asked. He was happy his voice had stayed level.

“That’s the one! Why, that isn’t where you’re going, is it?”

Gansey gave Blue a look. She gave him one back before rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders.

Henry was settled into the car with surprising quickness. Adam didn’t even wake up. Eventually, Blue fell asleep too. Gansey could hardly blame her. Hearing Cheng chatter about his endless car troubles and his father’s scorn was hardly pertinent to her interests.

It had occurred to Gansey that the car trouble _and_ the sleeplessness experienced by the residents of Henrietta was probably due to the energy given off by the ley line. He thought of that theory now while he contemplated how Blue’s mouth looked while she slept; how relaxed her hands seemed; how soft the skin of her neck looked. Her eyelashes casted a shadow on her cheeks in the morning light.

But then a silver sedan honked him for not quite staying in his lane and he wrenched his brain back onto the traffic. He wasn’t going to be able to put Orla’s tip to the test if they got into a pile-up with a semi and died before they even got to his parents’ house.

“So,” Henry’s voice said quietly in his ear. Gansey jumped.

“Jesus, man, have you taken your seatbelt off?”

“Why, you planning on crashing the car while you’re busy looking at your girl there?” His voice was still soft, like he knew the others weren’t to hear.

“She isn’t my girl.”

“Oh, really?” Henry said. His tone was butter but his eyes, when Gansey glanced at them, were hot oil. “Why is that, then?”

“She went out with Adam. Briefly,” he added at the last minute. He hardly knew why.

“Hmm. Didn’t I see her in the wee hours of the morning in your all-American muscle car several weeks ago?”

“They were broken up by then. And that was just a drive. We’re friends.”

"I take it Parrish doesn't know about these friendly drives you take her on?"

"I would prefer it if we kept that between us, yes."

“Hey, what you do at night is your business. So … they dated briefly. And broke up, what, more than several weeks ago?”

Gansey tilted his head in assent.

“Did they do it?”

“ _No_.” The word was already out of his mouth before he realized what he’d said. “Oh my god, I am not talking about other people’s sex lives with you.”

“So they went out for two minutes, ages ago, and didn’t even do it? Dick, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Then that’s the difference between you and me, Henry.”

“I don’t think Parrish will begrudge you this one little thing, Richard,” Cheng said, leaning back into his seat and smirking. “You are the golden boy, after all,” he added in a louder voice, clicking his seatbelt back on. “It’s good to be the king.”

Gansey was about to tell him that Blue wasn’t a _thing_ , but Henry’s louder voice had woken Adam. He looked around, confused at the new addition to the car’s passenger list.

The rest of the trip passed with Adam pretending he wasn’t jealous or resentful of the presence of an interloper and Henry pretending he hadn’t noticed any jealousy or resentment. Blue slept a little longer and Gansey was grateful because he was slightly undone.

Because maybe they _were_ being stupid.

Maybe Adam _wouldn’t_ mind.

He and Blue had practically been broken up for longer than they’d gone out in the first place. If you could call it going out. Henry was right; nothing had particularly happened between them, not physically. Geez, Gansey had been _with them_ most of the time whenever they saw each other.

Henry gave Gansey a particular look when he got out of his car at his father’s hotel; one that said he knew that Gansey was thinking about what he’d said.

When they got to the Gansey residence, no one was actually there; there was just a note pinned to the front door in Helen’s hand, with a Spartan “c u there” on it. Gansey fished around for his keys and let them all in, showing them their rooms so they could settle in and get changed.

Adam and Gansey were done about five minutes before Blue was. They’d been commenting that surely Blue ought to have been ready before them -- it would have been like her -- when Adam said, “There’s our girl.”

Gansey choked slightly at the other boy’s choice of words and looked up. And then stumbled right into one of his mother’s many side tables, knocking the tray that was on it right on to the floor along with its tasteful stack of books and ornaments. _Smooth_ , he thought. The flurry of straightening that followed meant that he didn’t get to look at Blue again until she was just a few feet away.

“You look nice,” Adam said politely.

“You do, too,” she said, every bit as mild.

She was in some sort of 60s shift-style black dress that was somehow entirely Blue yet also wasn’t going to look out of place where they were going. It looked perfect with her shiny bob. She had ballet flats on with a little peephole, showing her toes.

Her toes were perfection.

Gansey did not fail to notice that her toenails were painted the exact shade of the Pig.

Gansey swallowed and tried to think of something unappealing. Senators. Beehives. Broken carburetors.

“Is that jet?” Adam was asking her. She was pulling on her necklace; a long string of shiny cut black stones. And feathers.

“Absorbs negativity. It can be my armour at this thing,” she was saying, and Adam was nodding with a little smile on his face, and Gansey was suddenly fiercely desirous for Adam to stop. Stop looking at her, stop smiling at her, stop knowing what her necklace was made of. He wanted to drag this sleek polished Blue off somewhere -- his old bedroom, the pantry, wherever -- to try out the tip that Orla had given him.

“And a donation by Chainsaw so that Ronan can be represented,” Blue was adding, running one of the feathers along her own nose and then scrunching up her face with a smile, like she hadn’t realized it would tickle so much.

 _Badly made shirts._ Gansey thought desperately. _Shitty suspension. Leaky ballpoint pens._

“OK, peeps,” he said, aiming for irony and probably failing. “Let’s get to this thing before my mother has me cut out of the will.”

***

The foyer was chock full of women in pastel Chanel suits and men in pinstripes when they arrived. There were far too many lapel flowers.

“And to think Ronan didn’t want to join us!” Gansey said, holding the door open for Adam and Blue to go ahead of him.

Adam gestured that Blue should go first. This annoyed Gansey, since he was hoping to brush her hand on her way past him and he couldn’t do that if Adam wasn’t facing the other way.

A waiter came up to them right away, offering them a tray of drinks. Gansey took a glass of champagne automatically.

“Neither of us drink,” Blue said to the waiter, gesturing at Adam and herself. Gansey desperately tried to think of some way to take charge of the situation.

Which was when Helen appeared in front of them.

“Aren’t you three a picture,” She said, sizing them all up and then taking Adam’s elbow. “Come meet the Governor’s chief advisor, Adam, she loves a young man in charcoal. How’s that old car of mine?”

And all of a sudden, they were alone.

Gansey wondered if his sister Knew.

He was going to make a funny comment relating to the fact that he hadn’t realized that she didn’t drink given the amount of booze he had seen consumed at her home but the words that came out of his mouth were, “You _are_ a picture today, Jane.”

Blue just gave him a look.

“I’m not allowed to say you look nice? Adam was allowed to say you looked nice.”

Blue’s look deepened.

“Orla said something interesting to me as we were leaving,” he said.

“I’ll just bet she did,” Blue said, her look only changing to raise her eyebrows.

“She said that it’s your lips that are cursed, not mine. To quote, “I’d just avoid the face if I were you”.”

“I won’t avoid her face when I see her next.”

A new waiter passed by and offered Blue a tray of drinks. This time, she took one.

She was studiously not looking at him.

He considered whispering a detailed list of all the places he wanted to kiss her in her ear.

He considered kissing her ear.

Blue took a sip of her wine.

It was nice enough.

She took another that was more of a gulp.

“Well, we’re surrounded by tie pins and family jewels just now,” she said finally. “And we’ll be with your family for the rest of the day. When do you imagine you’ll be avoiding my face?”

All of a sudden Gansey had a mental image of himself tonight, knocking on the door to the guest room she was sleeping in.

Tonight seemed like a decade away.

“Do you think we could continue this conversation somewhere more private?” He asked instead. He kept his voice very neutral.

“Where do you suggest?”

He glanced around for his family, or Adam, or the damned Governor. None of them seemed to be in sight. He gestured wordlessly for Blue to follow him and headed for a small, promising-looking hallway as she put down her wine glass and followed him. It lead to an unlabelled door that revealed another foyer, darker and dustier, decorated with doors labeled "staff only" and bland abstract artwork.

It also had a couch.

Said couch looked far too much like a dangerous thing.

Though not as dangerous as it would have looked to him yesterday.

Gansey tried desperately to think of something clever to say.

He had never in his life had this much trouble finding things to say as he was having today.

Blue ended up being the one to break the silence. “You know that Orla’s clarification only relieves us -- barely -- of one of our problems?”

“We tell Adam,” he said immediately.

She stared at him.

“I’m serious, Jane. Has he been anything but brotherly to you since you broke it off? Has he given you any indication that he still has feelings for you? Because he hasn’t given me that impression.”

His hands were smoothing her hair behind one of her ears. He couldn’t remember making the decision to start doing it. He noticed that Blue was pressing her lips together. He wondered if she was preventing herself from saying something or just keeping her deadly lips to herself.

“When?” She said finally.

“Let’s tell him as soon as we get back to Henrietta. He has enough to deal with this weekend.”

She looked at him for a moment. And then nodded.

“In the meantime,” he said, letting his fingers trail down from her ear to her neck and then her collarbone. And then arching down to kiss the path they’d traced. Blue stood up on tiptoes to meet him, tilting her head back like it had been waiting to make that shape her whole life.

They did have quite a height difference. He imagined a time when it would be the only thing they had to worry about. But he didn’t imagine that for long, because he was busy feeling how silky her skin was against his lips and how nice she was in his arms as they tightened around her.

 _Mine,_ a small part of his brain said.

 _You're going to crease your shirt_ , said another bit.

 _MINE_ , the first part replied.

This was wonderful.

This was excruciating.

Blue's knees actually gave way.

This was very rapidly turning into nothing that she wanted Adam or anyone else at this lunch to walk in on.

“Wait,” she said.

***

Meawhile, Adam was looking for the pair of them. He had been joined by Henry and his father, who was unexpectedly tall, and who had made an unfunny comment about Henrietta being a hick town to another expensive-looking type who had laughed nastily. Adam decided abruptly that he needed back-up if he was going to get through the next two hours; but he couldn’t see Gansey or Blue. He had checked outside, and was just heading down a hallway searching for the bathroom, in case Gansey was hiding in there, when he heard Blue's voice behind a door saying "Stop. Stop!"

Adam burst through the door to see someone in a suit all over her, her arm up to try and get them off her. Adam immediately tackled the creep and pushed him up against the wall. He had pulled his arm back to punch the rich piece of shit in the face -- when his brain processed who he was looking at.

"Gansey," he said, immediately letting him go. "What -". He stepped back and tried again. "What -- Blue are you ok?"

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She nodded mutely.

“I -- I heard you telling someone to stop, I thought someone was hurting you. Gansey, what’s going on?” He asked weakly. He still wasn’t sure that Gansey hadn’t been trying to … do something to Blue, but the thought that Gansey could do something like that was making him feel empty and sick.

“I wasn’t hurting her, Adam. We were …” Gansey didn’t know how to finish that sentence. _Embracing? Necking. Being intimate. Avoiding the face._

“I’m in love with her.” The words became real as he said them. They were definitely true. But he had never said that word to Blue. He felt a sudden dismay that she would never now hear it from him for the first time in a more romantic way.

“You did hear me telling Gansey to stop,” Blue said after a moment. Her face was very red. “I was trying to tell him to get off me while we were in such a public place. Since we hadn’t talked to you yet,” she added pointedly, looking at Gansey.

Adam was so relieved that Gansey hadn’t been assaulting Blue that it took him a second or two for the jealousy to arrive. He wasn’t actually sure which one of them he was jealous of.

“How long?” He asked quietly.

This wasn’t an easy question for them to answer. Nothing had really happened between them, not physically, not really, until today. That might not be what Adam was asking, though.

“What do you mean?” Blue asked, stalling for time.

“I mean, were the two of you -- when you and I were -”

“No! _No_ , Adam.”

But Adam was now thinking of Gansey and the death list.

“You … haven’t kissed him.”

“No. You know the policy on that.”

Adam nodded. 

“Okay,” he said.

They all looked at each other. Adam was every bit as surprised as they were, to hear the word come so easily out of his mouth, but he meant what he said just as much as Gansey had.

“That's it?" Blue asked.

"Well, give me a bit to get used to the idea but yeah, I guess. I mean, as long as you don’t make me go back into that room by myself,” he added. “Come on, lovebirds.”

The party seemed much less offensive to both Gansey and Blue after that.

***

Ronan was playing pool with Noah when his stupid cell started ringing. He hated everything about it, even the way that it rang, which was unfair, given that he was the one that had made that obnoxious song his ringtone in the first place.

The caller ID was an unknown number but Ronan had a feeling he should answer it.

It was Adam.

“It’s me,” he said. “Blue and Gansey. Did you know?”

Ronan considered his words. The response his brain had provided him with -- _Yes, because I’ve got fucking eyes_ \-- was likely to have the opposite affect to the one he wanted.

Ronan went with, “I guessed.” And then, “Why, did Gansey finally make a move?”

“I don’t know, I -- I walked in on something. I don’t know what. But they told me that they ... they said they’d been waiting to talk to me about it.”

It sounded like something Gansey would do. Ronan wondered what face Adam might be making. He sounded tired. He could picture the shadows under Adam’s eyes.

“You want me to set fire to Dick’s bed? I will.”

Something loosened in Ronan’s chest when Adam laughed.

“No. I mean -- I don’t know, it’s just a bit weird. But I -- I’m pretty sure I lost her all on my own.”

Ronan made a non-committal noise. Chainsaw pecked at the phone impatiently.

“Sounds like the children need you,” Adam said. “Don’t set fire to anything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And he hung up. Ronan put his phone down with a slight smirk.

He might have to stay at Adam’s tomorrow night. Clear out to give Gansey and Blue some private time.

And Adam might need the company.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Blue opened her overnight bag with some misgivings. She had deliberately packed pyjamas that were modest enough for Adam to see, or Gansey’s parents, while still being pretty enough that she wouldn’t mind Gansey seeing her in them. She had her vanity.

But that had been before. Now she wondered if she should have packed something sexier. Or something less sexy.

 _Pull yourself together_ , she thought to herself crossly, and yanked them out of her bag. Which is when she found that someone had tucked a packet of condoms into her not-too-tantilising PJs. They fell onto the floor and it took her a few moments to realise what they were.

She would _definitely_ not be avoiding Orla’s face when she got home.

Meanwhile, Gansey had put on his own pyjamas without much thought and was absent-mindedly rolling a mint leaf around his tongue and wondering what to do with himself.

He should just go to her room.

Would going to her room be too … obvious?

He should just go to her room.

Was it too … early? Should he wait until everyone else fell asleep?

He should just go to her room.

She might consider a knock on her door a display of entitled toxic masculinity.

He was just wishing she had a cell phone so that he could have texted her something funny as a lead in to him going to her room, rather than just brazenly doing it, and wondering if she would let him give her a cell phone now that he was maybe sort of her boyfriend, when his own cell started ringing.

He stared at the number in confusion. It was someone in the house.

“Hello?”

Blue’s voice rang like brass. “Yeah, where the hell is your room?”

He laughed. “I’ll come to you,” he said.

“Oh, no. I want to see your room.”

“You know it hasn’t really been my room since I was a tween.”

“Whatever, Mr I-bought-an-abandoned-factory-and-made-it-my-mancave.”

He gave her directions and then waited in the doorway to make doubly sure she didn’t accidentally let herself into Helen’s room.

He watched Blue coming down the hallway towards him with her hair still all sleek and her pyjamas on -- mid-thigh shorts and a coordinating t-shirt with some sort of Japanese cartoon motif on it -- and pressed his lips together. When she got within arms reach he picked her up and carried her over the threshold to his room.

“What are you doing?” She hissed at him, as he kicked the door shut with one leg and then launched them both onto his bed.

“Carrying you into my substitute cave. Now shush, Jane,” he said, burying his face in her neck.

“Did you just shush me??!”

“Yes,” he said, in between kisses, as though that settled the matter. “This is no time for talking.”

They did actually do a lot of talking, though. They did also keep on most of their clothes.

Some bits.

A few bits.

When it started to get truly late, Gansey wrapped himself around Blue like a climbing plant and pulled the covers over them. “Mmmm,” she said. “You’re right, we should probably get some sleep. So you -- you don’t want me to go back to the guest room, then?”

“I’d really prefer you not to,” Gansey said. “See how well you fit right here?”

“I’ve never slept in a bed with anyone before,” she said after a moment. “Apart from when I was little, I mean.”

“Well, neither have I, but I hear it’s quite common.”

Gansey had the best night’s sleep he’d had in years.

***

When they got back to Henrietta, Blue let herself into 300 Fox Way, self-consciously wondering how obvious it was going to be to a bunch of psychics exactly where she’d slept the previous night. 

Orla was just finishing up a psychic phone call when Blue found her. Blue threw the packet of condoms at her head, saying “I didn’t need those, thanks all the same!”

Orla caught the box and inspected it. “I should hope not. This brand is crap.”

“Wait, you didn’t pack those in my bag?”

Orla burst out laughing, shaking her head, just as the phone started ringing again. She waved Blue away, still chuckling. Blue headed back into the corridor, confused, to see Calla glancing at her over her shoulder with a mildly guilty look on her face, as she headed down into the basement.  

***

Adam had work that afternoon, and when he got back to St Agnes’, dirty and hungry, Ronan was waiting on the steps, a gigantic pizza next to him (a bit too gigantic -- Adam wondered if he had bought it or dreamt it) and Chainsaw on his arm.

Adam looked at Ronan, and Ronan looked at Adam looking at him, and Adam’s face turned red.

 _Oh_ , his brain said.

_Oh. Oooh._

Adam suddenly felt very stupid, and patted Chainsaw, his brain a jumble, searching for something to say.

“Did Blue show you the necklace she made with the feathers you gave her?”

Ronan shrugged noncommittally. Adam wasn’t sure if it was a “yes” or a “no”.

“It was thoughtful of you.”

“She likes shit like that.”

It occurred to Adam that he had never had such a thought. He wondered if he had ever really thought about what Blue might like at all.

He really had lost her all on his own.

But the thought didn’t hurt. Especially not with that _oh_ resounding around his body.

Gansey had once said to him that Blue and Ronan were cut from the same cloth. Adam had just stared at Gansey in confusion. He still didn’t understand what Gansey had meant, but that _oh_ made more sense in that context.

Blue had found him that morning, before they left, away from Gansey and his family. “I wanted to say thankyou,” she had said, looking at him in that fierce way of hers. “You thought I needed help and you helped me. I’m grateful.”

He had said, “You’re welcome.”

He had wanted to say that she would always be welcome to his help, but he hadn’t wanted to make it sound more significant than he meant it, or like he was implying anything, or pressuring her.

It had felt good to be the white knight for once.

He wondered if that was how if felt to be Ronan. Adam toed the humungous pizza box. “You coming on up?” He asked him.

“No, I want to eat this entire fucking pizza, by myself, in the street.”

“Whatever. I need to shower.”

“I’m fucking hungry.”

“Then start without me.”

“Your stupid avocado will get cold.”

Adam rolled his eyes and headed into the bathroom. “You know I only eat that because Gansey insists on ordering it, right?”

Ronan watched Adam walk up the stairs in front of him. He watched him open and close his apartment door. He watched him close the bathroom door. He listened to the water running, the shower door closing. He listened to the way that the water’s flow went all uneven.

He yanked his phone out of his pocket and started playing obnoxious music very loudly.

He shoved pizza in his face.

Adam came out in a towel.

Ronan turned away like he had just been about to do it anyway, playing with his phone.

He listened to Adam pull things out of drawers.

Ronan put the music up a bit louder.

“Lynch, that is awful. Where do you even find such awful music?”

“What, you didn’t like the CD I made you?”

“Wha- _Ronan.”_

Crap. It sounded like Adam had seen the new slice across his shoulder. Ronan briefly wished he’d checked that his tank top covered it when he got dressed, before he felt Adam’s hand pulling it aside to get a better look at the cut. He jerked out of the way, turning around.

Adam just had pyjama pants on. He looked slighter without anything covering his top half, but also stronger. You could see that the way he held himself was designed to make him look smaller than he actually was.

You could see the long, lean muscles he had from all the work he did.

“I don’t need a fucking nursemaid,” Ronan said, his sudden anger bursting out of his mouth.

“You’re _bleeding_ , Ronan. Did you even clean that wound?”

“The fuckers come from my shitting mind palace, Parrish. Last time I checked they don’t have rabies there.”

Adam looked at him for a moment, wondering what Gansey would say to persuade Ronan. Finally, he went with, “You’re going to bleed everywhere. Take off your shirt. I am bandaging you up so that I don’t have to spend tomorrow washing blood stains out of everything I own.”

Ronan looked at him with narrowed eyes. Adam thought for a moment or two he was going to storm out. But then Ronan pulled his shirt off and turned his back again. Adam went and got bandages from his bathroom -- he kept a supply for the occasional time he scraped himself underneath a car -- and a tube of disinfectant cream.

Adam’s hands were trembling with that _oh_.

There was a second, longer wound underneath the one that Adam had seen, and a third one that was really just a scratch.

“They had stopped bleeding,” Ronan said, as Adam started work on the biggest one first.

Adam thought of Ronan fighting his dad the day that he lost the hearing in one ear, of how he came to his father’s hearing, when Adam hadn’t even told Ronan when it was. Of how Ronan had tucked in his shirt and knotted his tie and spoken respectfully to the judge.

He thought of the discreet way that Ronan had tried to cover the increase in their school fees.

He thought of the jar of salve that Ronan had dreamt for his hands.

“That middle cut is deep. It might scar,” Adam said, putting the last bandage on. He stepped back to look at his handiwork and his eyes swept over Ronan’s tattooed back. It certainly wouldn’t be the only scar there.

“Did the night horrors do all these?” He asked, tracing one of the wider scars with his finger.

Ronan jerked away from him, turning around. “No, I fucking self-flagellate because it’s the fifteenth century.”

“I think you pronounced “fellate” wrong there.” The words were out of Adam’s mouth before he could have second thoughts about making such a crude joke.

Ronan stared at Adam for a second before letting out a huge laugh. It made something in Adam’s chest loosen. 

“I’m not finished being a nursemaid,” he said, giving Ronan a gentle push to get him to turn around again.

It wasn’t quite true, but Adam had never had unlimited access like this to Ronan’s back, or specifically his tattoo. With that _oh_ fluttering around his stomach, this felt more significant than it would have yesterday, but this, at least, wasn’t something he had ever been a coward about.

He traced a finger along one of the knotted lines, and then to one of the creatures woven amongst them. He said, “You know, I’m looking right at you and I still can’t figure this pattern out.”

Ronan was silent for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, while Adam’s fingers traced along the shapes on Ronan’s back.

“What’s to figure out?” Ronan finally replied.

“These aren’t ravens, are they. Are they dragons?”

Ronan shrugged. It made the muscles in his shoulders and back bunch up.

Adam could suddenly feel his pulse in his lips. His mouth had gone dry.

 _Oh_ , he thought.  

He let his fingers trace down Ronan’s side.

Ronan turned around again, grabbing Adam’s wrist this time. “What are you doing?” Ronan hissed. Adam went very still, and Ronan seemed to realise why, and let go immediately. He snatched his shirt up from the floor, pulling it on while he made a beeline for the door.

“Do you really hate this aspect of yourself so much?” Adam said, his voice quiet. It sounded like more of a challenge than he had meant it to, but he didn’t regret it.

“Are we talking about this now? Really? Because as if you would have even thought about touching me before you walked in on whatever you walked in on yesterday,” he said. “I’m not your fucking consolation prize.”

“I didn’t understand yesterday,” Adam said. “I understand today. I understand now why I wasn’t upset. And you’re not a prize, Ronan Lynch. You’re a person. I see you, Ronan Lynch.” _And you’re beautiful_ , he wanted to add. _You’re a force of nature. The very trees that I serve are in love with you._

_You honour me, Ronan Lynch._

Ronan slumped against the door at Adam’s words. He was facing Adam again, but like he was broken.

“I’m a fucking Catholic,” he said weakly, sliding down to the floor, running a hand over his buzzcut absent-mindedly. Chainsaw rubbed herself against his other hand and he scooped her to his chest.

Adam didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know enough about it, given that religion was, to him, a foreign country. A backwards one.

After a moment, he sat down in front of Ronan and said, “Do you really think Blue’s going to hell? And Maura, and Orla, and Calla? Do you really think Persephone’s in hell right now?”

Ronan looked at him for a moment. And then he shook his head. It looked like it cost him something, but he did it.

“Don’t you think your church could be wrong about this too? Do I look like hell-bait to you?”

“Yes,” Ronan said, without a moment of hesitation.

Adam laughed. But then Ronan put Chainsaw down, and leant forwards, so that he was on all fours, his face inches from Adam’s. His body language was predatory but his face might as well have been striped with the colour of fear.

“Push me away,” Ronan said.

Adam kissed him.

 


End file.
